Smallholding

Chris Dunkley

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9781849433983
• eBook ISBN: 9781849439343
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

'She's got no business being a junkie… She had looks, brains... Everythin' goin' for her. Whereas you, Andy… You deserve addiction.' Andy and Jen have just moved on to a new farm, returning to the village they grew up in. The plan is to plant parsnips, breed pigs and live off the fat of the land. But escaping their shared demons was never going to be easy. While the couple make a fresh start, trust, responsibility and bio-dynamic farming challenge their rehabilitation in this darkly comic love story. Hope and optimism are tested in Smallholding, a fizzing new play by Chris Dunkley.

SCENE 1. OCTOBER.

A cottage on a farm in East Northamptonshire. The floor is carpeted but dirty and full of holes as if it is gradually becoming one with the field outside. Two doors, one internal leading to a bedroom and one leading outside, spring from the ground as if discarded in a bare field. There are no physical walls, only implied ones. A freestanding hob and sink [referred to in stage directions as ‘the kitchen area’] stand on one side and a decrepit sofa appears to have been casually discarded in the space, along with a battered old television and a pale green telephone. We hear a key in the lock followed by fumbling around, muted swearing and kicking of the door. Pause. A window panel in the door breaks as a rowing oar is pushed through it. A hand comes through the pane to grapple uselessly with the handle from the inside. The door remains stubbornly locked. A man growls in frustration. A female voice approaches, annoyed and questioning.

JEN: (Off.) Whaddya smash the window for?!

ANDY: (Off.) You won’t be able to unlock it; it’s completely rusted up.

Pause. The key turns gently in the lock and JEN enters. She has a bag over her shoulder. She moves into the space, drops the bag and paces furiously. She is followed by ANDY, a dishevelled, agile man with long limbs and fingers. He’s the type of man who can’t understand something until he’s broken it. He is carrying an oar, which he stands carefully against the wall before stretching out his arms to JEN.

JEN: Seriously?!

ANDY: I’m meant to carry you over the threshold.

JEN: Are you mental?

ANDY: Come on, luv.

JEN: We’re not married.

ANDY: Iss our first place.

JEN: S’not ours.

ANDY: Might as well be. Come on, luv.

JEN: Why’d yer go an’ break the window then?

ANDY: It wouldn’t open. You weren’t ’ere.

JEN: I was gettin’ out of the car. Which would’ve been a lot easier if it weren’t lyin’ on its side in a ditch. Soaked through, I am.

ANDY: We’re in farmin’ now, Jen… (Grandly.) a hole fulla water is known as a pond.

JEN: Thass not our car, Andy. Y’borrowed it off my brother. I knew it were a bad idea. He’ll go mental.

ANDY: You shouldn’a been fiddlin’ around with Terence Trent D’Arby.

JEN: You asked me to. An’ can you stop callin’ it that?

ANDY: If you knew anythin’ at all about men, Jennifer, we’re always askin’ you to, even if we don’t say it.

JEN: You still didn’t have to break the window.

ANDY: You say that, but when you’re blessed with the kind of will-power possessed by five-time Olympic…

JEN: Mention Steve Redgrave just once an’ I’ll scream.

ANDY: The man won gold medals in five consecutive Olympics. No one’s ever done that in an endurance event. You ask Matthew Pinsent…

JEN has found a light switch – the room is lit.

JEN: If I ever meet Matthew BLOODY Pinsent…

ANDY: (Genuinely awed.) Bloody ’ell. Look at this.

Despite the dust and general decay, ANDY looks pleased and excited; he touches everything moving in and out of the bedroom and kitchen area as JEN watches him. JEN’s anger subsides, taking pleasure in his reaction. We now see that JEN is covered in mud.

JEN: Y’like it?

ANDY: Look at this place. It’s perfect.

JEN: Is it?

ANDY: Well…it’s gonna need a bit o’ work, like.

JEN: Think we can make a go of it though?

ANDY: Got to; belongs to your brother. Like everythin’ else.

JEN: Iss Sally who bothers me.

ANDY: Well, yeah, obviously.

JEN: Sally who looks like a heron. Judgin’ every move we make. I mean, there’s only basic equipment. We’ll have to hire most of it.

ANDY: M’dad used to hire everythin’ anyway. Thass how it’s done. I’ll get a tractor tomorrow to pull the car out the hole. Dun’t worry.

JEN: Can’t believe I’m actually gonna be a farmer’s wife. Think we can do this? You sure you’re up to it? All this restin’ on you. Y’gonna mess it up, Andy love, are yer?

ANDY: I mean he ent given us a dream situation here. This ent the Garden of Eden. I mean, I’m not bein’ funny but there’s always been a drainage problem round ’ere.

JEN: ’E didn’t mention it.

ANDY: He wouldn’t, luv. He’s your brother. He wants you t’think he’s the big man steppin’ in an’ savin’ your life. Savin’ us both, but I remember from years ago. Me dad said, ‘real problems wiv drainage.’ Yeah, he got ripped off buyin’ this place. Bought it for us, did ’e?

JEN: No, he wanted the land up by the top end; this came wiv it. Knock-down price. Bargain, ’e said.

ANDY: There y’go, see? Told yer. He’s palmed us off wiv a dud. S’a dud, this. This is a dud. Wants me t’fail. He’s tryin’ t’show you I’m gonna fail. Like I can’t look after yer. He’s set us up for a fall.

JEN: He said this was a good investment.

ANDY: (Fingering a hole in the sofa.) Look at that. Nasty, that is. Nasty. Needs a lot of work, dunnit. Lots of work. Fallin’ apart… and the drainage issue… iss all about ready t’fall apart an’ drown.

JEN: Feels a bit scary all of a sudden. Vic gave us it on trust. It’s pressure, ennit. Can’t let it go under.

ANDY registers her moment...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Characters
• Scene 1. October
• Scene 2. November